


Change

by clonecept



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 04:23:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1805167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clonecept/pseuds/clonecept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delphine stands by Cosima through the changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change

It’s been four months since she had arrived when she finally concedes to use the chair to navigate her way around the loft that Felix has graciously allowed them to use. The oxygen tank is strapped to it as she wheels her way around, with cheerful vigor at first but even that wanes.

She tries not to use it too much.

One day, as she’s lying in bed, watching Delphine make tea, she pulls out her laptop and opens it up.

“Delphine,” she says, voice raspy as Delphine brings over a tray of tea, “I think…”

Delphine sets the tray down, sitting down on the side of the bed. “What is it, ma chérie?”

“I think it’s time I go home.”

She stares at her, eyes lost in each other in a moment of sad understanding.

“Okay,” Delphine whispers, her hand wrapping around Cosima’s.

* * *

Sarah lingers behind in the kitchen as Felix and the rest of their genetic identicals shuffle out of the loft, mumbling their awkward farewells. Cosima waves and smiles apologetically as she leans against the counter.

“Look, Sarah,” Cosima sighs, her voice rattling, “I just figured it’s time to tell my folks what’s going on with me and everything.”

“Yeah, no, that’s… totally alright.”

“Thanks for letting me stay this long. I…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sarah says, pulling Cosima into a tight but fragile embrace. “We’ll see you when you come back, yeah?” she breathes, lying for them both.

“Yeah,” Cosima whispers, withdrawing. She stares at the face wearing the same identical unsteady smile on hers.

“That’s the last of it,” Delphine says hesitantly with a soft sigh, as she steps into the loft, slightly breathless from moving the luggage downstairs and loading it into the taxi.

“Safe travels, then, alright?”

“Yeah.”

Cosima gives a small wave as she shuffles her way out the door, Delphine hesitating under Sarah’s intense stare.

“You’re going to take care of Cosima, yeah?” she whispers fiercely.

“Yes.”

* * *

She sleeps for most of the trip, her head resting on Delphine’s shoulder who graciously gave up the window seat so that Cosima could fall asleep identifying cloud formations mid-flight.

“Hey, we’re here,” Delphine whispers, nudging Cosima awake.

It doesn’t take long for them to reach the arrivals area, aside for the time Cosima spent to stubbornly remove the cannula and pack away the oxygen tank. Delphine holds her hand the whole way down the ramp for fear of her falling.

“Hey,” Cosima greets, a shade of her life coming back to the surface with an energetic wave.

The houses pass by as her parents drive them to their house - the house that Cosima grew up in, making idle conversation and avoiding the elephant in the room - or the car, as the case was.

“Cosima, you’ve lost so much weight,” her mother remarks, worry in her eyes as she peers into the backseat of the car just as they start to shuffle out.

Cosima glances at Delphine.  “Uh, yeah…”

Her father wordlessly pulls the oxygen tank out of the trunk of the car and wheels it to the other side of the car so that Delphine can bring it inside without Cosima’s mother seeing it.

* * *

They are seated across each other in the living room, Cosima tucked into the corner of the couch, Delphine a small distance beside her, linked by their hands.

“Mom, Dad,” Cosima announces, wheezing a little from the lack of oxygen that she’s been receiving in the last hour, “I have something to tell you.”

Her mother leans anxiously in while her father gives Delphine a knowing glance.

“I’m sick.”

“With what, honey?” her mother murmurs soothingly, still in denial.

Delphine opens her mouth to explain when she sees that Cosima is struggling.

“Cosima is —”

“— sick with stage four lung cancer,” Cosima finishes.

Delphine looks at her, her eyes filled with fleeting confusion.

When Cosima allows Delphine to bring out the oxygen tank and the wheelchair, Cosima can barely look at her.

* * *

The ocean laps at their bare feet as Cosima sucks in a hungry breath, leaning back on her palms. Her toes dig into the wet sand while her chair sinks behind them. The orange glowing sun breathes life back into her pale skin and she relishes in its warm rays.

“Are you mad at me?”

Delphine pauses, tilting her head to look at Cosima thoughtfully. “Why would I be?”

“Because of my parents.”

Delphine considers it for a moment.  “No,” she says slowly. “I know.”

She smiles faintly and nods, resting her head against Delphine’s shoulder.

“Okay.”

Cosima would never give her parents the opportunity to feel guilt over her as a product of an illegal human cloning experiment, one that her parents willingly paid for and helped conceive. And its by-product was her disease.

* * *

  
The salt water pulls away from the shore, taking with it the sand and the silt. Delphine smiles faintly as she breathes in the salt air.

“Merci,” she whispers softly and slowly walks back to the house.

Cosima’s body was given to science - an autopsy to learn more about the disease which proved vital to creating a preventative treatment for her sisters. And once that had been done, cremated to prevent her genetic material from being reproduced.

Half of it was scattered into the oceans in San Francisco by Delphine and her parents, the other half sent to Toronto for a memorial service held by her clone-siblings.

* * *

Delphine returned to Paris, having landed a teaching job at the university, specializing in immunology.

The first chance she got after settling in, she went to visit her mother in Lille whom she had not visited more than a handful of times during her pursuit of academic prestige.

She took the initiative, seeing the slightly wilted leaves hanging on the deck railing. She repotted the plants and watered them, much to her mother’s surprise who watched the pendant swinging like a pendulum around her neck from the kitchen window.

“Quoi?” Delphine straightened,  _What?_  as she headed back inside, rubbing the dirt off her palms.

“Ce n’est rien.”  _Never mind._

Delphine sat down by the kitchen counter and gratefully accepted the coffee her mother offered her.

“Tu as changé,” her mother remarked,  _You have changed,_ smiling faintly over her cup at the two unworn gold bands flanking the glass vial pendant.

Delphine’s eyes lowered, her voice barely a whisper.

“Tu aurais dû familier avec qui m’a changé.”

_You should have seen who changed me._


End file.
